I get so frustrated on Saturday mornings. We all have a different "priority list" of things to get done over the weekend, and it causes major upset in the LittleMiss household. I WANT to argue with my husband, I want to break out the boxing gloves...I think, maybe I should just write about it...get it out of my system, and move on with the "not really getting anything done on Saturday because we can't agree on a single thing" day. I WANT to complain!
Then guilt creeps into my conscience...(insert favorite swear word here)...I am totally blessed to have my husband. He's the only one who truly gets me, he's the greatest father (he initiated the tuck your kids in at midnight just to see how cute they are rule), he's provided us with a comfortable lifestyle, he'd rather be home with me than anywhere else in the world, and he's my best friend; I love him to pieces.
Dammit...and all I wanted to do was complain. What did I get? A sappy love story.
Damn him for being so good.